I remember my mother sitting me on her lap and telling me the stories of the lost daughters of Evalanedea. It was a bittersweet story, but weren’t most myths of any Kind?
The Romans and the Greeks had their tragedies, after all.
Well, so do we.
But… the myths of Evalanedea are never to be shared, my mother had said.
But no one is reading this now, but me. (I still have it set to private).
I feel guilty writing anything about those myths at all.
Anyway, I told Coty the first myth—there are a handful, but they all tie together, really, as one larger story—as we organized our finds and waited for the private room service that was allowed on the sixth floor to bring us dinner.
We had to wait for our turn. Every ‘guest’ on the sixth floor had to use the same service if we didn’t eat downstairs somewhere. And it wasn’t exactly fully staffed down there, preparing the sixth floor’s limited menu.
Still, Coty and I needed absolute privacy for what we were about to do.
“I really would like to know the history of the Dardaptoans,” Coty said, spreading a bunch of leather-bound books out in front of her. Riv had found them in an old discard box in the back of the library that morning. She had given them to me, saying she didn’t know what they contained. But they were non-fiction.
Our Kind doesn’t have many non-fiction books outside of the restricted portion of the library—or at Dardanos University.
No. Our science, history, and literature—even our very language—was not often written down.
It was just safer that way.
This was what we had become, our Kind. We hide ourselves away from the greater world, the rest of the Kinds. We build little cities to house ourselves. We defend those cities, and our families.
But we keep our own history so in shadow that even the most learned of our peoples often don’t even know it.
That saddens me.
That was not what the goddess of our Kind would have ever wanted for us.
Perhaps someday, someone should ask this of her?
Why do we hide like little mice? Is it because the Lupoiux have so destroyed us?
Or is it something more? Is something far more sinister to come for us someday?